


Landslide

by thestruidora



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Beta Bruce Banner, Beta Natasha Romanov, Dominance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, Mating, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Miscommunication, Omega Verse, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Praise Kink, Protective Steve Rogers, Rut Sickness, Rutting, Scenting, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Submission
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:07:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21727252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestruidora/pseuds/thestruidora
Summary: Steve was never quite sure if he truly was an alpha. Genetically he should be, coming from a long line of alpha males. But due to the several health conditions in his youth, his poorly functioning body never presented. But now, because of the serum reacting to his true designation, a terrible case of rut sickness takes hold of the super soldier, threatening his life. Being a beta, Natasha can’t offer him what he needs, and since omegas are rarer today then ever, she is forced to hire a foreign girl to tend to Steve during these desperate times.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 20
Kudos: 169





	1. Language Barrier

Chapter One

_Language Barrier_

It strikes first in March.

In the beginning it wasn’t as much of a problem as it was an annoyance. It started out as a tiny itch under his skin that he just couldn’t seem to be able to scratch. He would feel hot under his leather jacket even while driving his bike at the highest speed acceptable. His vision would get blurry and his breathing heaver, reminding him of his long forgotten asthma attacks.

Even working was proving to be a difficult task on it’s own.

The lighting from Tony’s office would become unbearably bright all of the sudden, and the smell of his fellow SHIELD agents would soon start to taste foul in his mouth during a simple elevator trip. But what really did him in was the repulsive growl that he let out when Bucky stopped by one weekend.

It flared from his chest all the way to his vocal cords, turning into a vibration that he had never emitted before but felt familiar all the same. Like it had came from an _instinctual_ part of himself that he wasn’t even aware he possessed.

“Wow, buddy, are you ok?” Unconsciously Bucky knew not to get to close, examining the way his friend puffed out his shoulders in an uncharacteristic show of dominance.

“Steve, what’s going on?” Natasha, who had accompanied Bucky on his visit, seemed unaffected by their exchange, coming right up to the distressed blonde and putting a hand on his arm.

“He...” Steve begin to answer, his attention flickering between the threatening male presence in his apartment and the calming redhead looking up at him gently.

“He what?” She asked.

“He’s stinking up the whole place.”

At the time he said it, it sounded like the most natural way to phrase it. But now, sitting in Banner’s lab, picking up on the underwhelming sterilized scent of cleanliness of the place and feeling the now common headache getting stronger, he wasn’t so sure.

“So, what do you think has been triggering this episodes?” Bruce had an all-knowing look about him, fixing the frame of his glasses to his face before pulling a thermometer from his coat’s pocket and sticking in Steve’s mouth.

“Anger, mostly. But I’m not even sure what I’m angry about. Lately every small thing can set me off.” Steve kept the device on the inside of his left cheek while answering.

The blue and white room had a soothing effect on the super soldier, making him think back to the patterns of his reactions to other people and the elements surrounding them, even though now in front of Bruce he was as stable as ever.

“He hasn’t been feeling his best for a while now, hence the anger. I still think he's got the flue.” Natasha said from the chair close by, watching Bruce work on Steve attentively.

“I wish it was this simple.” Dr. Banner frowned after removing the thermometer from Steve’s mouth. “Your body temperature it’s running extremely high.”

“I feel fine.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, for now, in this sterile facility talking to two betas. The minute you get a whiff of an alpha your hormonal charge it’s gonna go haywire.”

“What does that mean?” Natasha questioned.

“It means that the serum has amplified Steve’s designation as an alpha, which had been lying dormant during his youth because his body couldn’t take the presentation. Now, his going into rut, and a mean looking one at that.”

“So that’s it? He just needs to get laid?” The russian spy laughed, noticing a blush taking over Steve’s cheeks. “I kind saw that coming.”

“Again, not that simple. A rut can take up to ten days in cases like this, with the alpha needing continuous…” Bruce fixed his glasses once more, coughing mildly. “Release… from, hum, a compatible match, that this.”

“Match?” Steve’s mind was spinning. His hands were getting sweaty and he felt like hyperventilating.

Ever since he was found in the ice he hadn’t had the best experiences at dating in the twenty first century, let alone finding a _compatible match_.

To be honest, at this point, he had given up on that aspect of his life, understanding that the purpose of his existence was to protect and salve as many people as he could as Captain America.

And… that was pretty much it.

But clearly his body didn’t seem to be on the same page.

“Well, in our current culture, omegas are almost extinct and alphas themselves are becoming fewer in number when compared to the beta population. Now days, there are rut apps, and pheromone based perfumes made to replicate omega’s natural scents for moments such as these… When, once a year, an unmated alpha ‘needs to get laid’.” Bruce made air quotes with his fingers, ignoring Natasha’s chuckle. “But what that serum did when it came in contact with that particular code in your biology, the one that had failed to present in the passed, was put it under a magnifying glass strong enough to force those mating instincts to emerge.”

“Banner, I just love how you can say so much without actually saying jack shit.” Agent Romanoff jumped out of her chair, coming closer to the doctor, has stoic expression returning with full force. “What exactly does he need?”

“Hum…” Bruce trawled off, gulping with the tension that had suddenly taken over the lab. “He needs an omega.”


	2. Bilingual

Chapter Two

_Bilingual_

Steve was hot.

His whole room had become a furnace from the heat that seemed to come from within him. His skin prickled against the sweat covered sheets of his bed and he could taste the metal of his blood as he bit his lip yet again while trying to control a moan.

His clothes were long forgotten by the side of the bed. Everything being too much when in contact with his hypersensitive body. His mouth was dry but his hands felt sticky when he went in to hold his once again hard cock.

“Fuck…” He let out a hiss.

It hurt to touch the warm abused skin, but it hurt even more not to. He looked down to the swelled member in between his hands, grabbing it firmer and coasting through the pain. He could feel it growing hotter and wetter as it leaked at the angry red tip.

Each and every vein in his dick became visible as his movements turned more erratic. The palm of his hands were slippery from all the precum he was producing. The up and down motion so fast he could barely see it now.

A coil started to form in his abdomen, building higher and higher. He could hear himself panting quietly, controlling his own ministrations and the audible reactions to hide the shame as his face heated from the intimate act.

He felt as degraded as he felt desperate. He felt like hiding just as much as he felt like screaming.

There was this unspeakable need metastasizing deep inside of him. The noises he was creating getting louder and whinier.

He threw his head back, closing his eyes and seeing only whiteness. There was a shape forming behind his eyelids. Inviting features appearing bit by bit while the intensity of his pleasure tenfold. He shivered in his bed when the all-consuming fire grazed his loins, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his mouth fall agape.

Beads of transpiration coagulated in his forehead, traveling low down his back and teasing the sensible skin until it made it’s way to the soaked fabric underneath him. He was close. He was _so_ close and so hot.

He was _so_ hot he felt like dying.

He knew there was something missing, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it. Much like his now too sensitive to the touch dick.

“Shit!” Steve grunted, letting go of the tender piece of flesh.

His head was aching and his hands shaking from the lack of release. The whole room smelled of his rut. In fact, his entire apartment was sending a loud and clear message to any alpha in proximity that at this point he would do about anything to find and mount an omega.

Too bad that they didn’t exist anymore.

They were already pretty rare in his time, but he never thought that he wouldn’t be able to find one to literally save his life.

Ever since Bruce had broke down his condition, Natasha seemed hellbent in finding a solution. But somehow Steve knew that she couldn’t help him. It was almost ancestral how his instincts came forward and took over his judgment.

He didn’t want some chemically engineered version of an omega’s scent. He didn’t want to deliberately trick his new and improved senses. Nor to settle with a generic take on the experience of what being with an omega should feel like.

Even though he was aware it was an overly romanticized principle, Steve was raised to believe that to every alpha there was a perfectly matched omega, and that it was his duty to find her… wherever she was. It sure had stung to realize that he had failed at something so primitive that now his body was punishing him. Of course that, by now, in the thick of his rut, all of that sounded a lot like bullshit.

Accepting the reality imposed to him, one in which he wouldn’t be able to cum no matter how _hard_ he tried, he fought against the heaviness that had settled over his shoulders and stumbled out of bed.

The cold surface of the floor in contact with his feet caused a shiver to run up his spine and he had to hold on to the nightstand when vertigo took over and the room spun.

Mumbling to himself in the silence of his solitude, he struggled to stay up straight, a sickening sensation undulating in his lower belly. His cock stood painfully upwards, a shade of purple dominating the pulsing length, particularly in the shiny whipping head. Not being capable to contain a moan, Steve shuddered whilst making his way to the bathroom connected to his bedroom.

“So hot…” He moaned as he made his way to the spacious bathtub, turning on the tap in order to fill it to the brim with cold water. “I need…”

He could hear movement coming from the living room as if it was happening directly in his ear. The sounds of skin scuffing when in touch with fabric and keys jiggling sharply against one another. Choosing to ignore his own rut induced hallucinations, he closed the tub’s tap, taking in a deep breath when it came time to insert himself into the freezing water.

Steve could swear he saw steam emerging when his burning hot physique was enveloped by the icy liquid. The massive muscles of the super soldier contracting with the effort. The water overlapping as his impressive figure filled out the tub.

“Too hot…” Somehow he still felt warm. His complexion blushed to the point of redness, a tingling starting from the top of his scalp all the way to his thighs.

With chattering teeth and shuddering shoulders, he shut his eyes tightly and slowly allowed his torso to slip through the porcelain, the water covering his head completely as he submerged, letting the physical ache transport itself to a sentimental one.

There was this irrational part of him that believed this moment to be his downfall. That believed that a life such as this, without being capable to help or be helped, wasn’t worth living.

In the raze of his fever, Steve opened his eyes from underwater, a feminine outline appearing from the surface and looking right down at him. Though unrecognizable in the blurriness, the image stirred up a buzz inside of him, his senses flashing in alarm. A weird feeling of recollection spread in his mind, the color radiating from the stranger’s irises creating a different kind of warmth within.

The more he stared the better he felt. Lighter, almost. As if floating on a cloud. All of the soreness leaving his being at once. The corner of his lips lifting a bit as darkness began to engulf the view.

“Steve!” The calling of his name in a familiar voice startled him. Reaching hands grabbing his arms and pulling, bringing the barely awake man to the surface.

He gasped for air as it filled his lungs way too quickly, leaving a burning sensation. Droplets of water trickled from his hair, dripping through his face and neck.

“Goddammit, Steve! What were you thinking?” Small fingers lingered at his biceps, wobbly sustaining his weight as he was guided off the bathtub. “I called a thousand times. Bucky said it was best to leave you alone, but I knew there was something wrong.”

The light greenish irises of Natasha’s eyes greeted him finally, and he tensed in her arms as she struggled to take him back to his bed. The embarrassment consuming his thoughts while he tried his best to hide his nudity.

“You’re not supposed to be here. I don’t want anyone here.” His voice faltered, the words tripping over one another.

“I can see that. It sure would be much more easy for you to kill yourself without my interference.” The redhead run up to his wardrobe, grabbing a big towel and proceeding to wrap him up around the broad shoulders with it.

“I wasn’t trying to… I just wanted to see something.” She wouldn’t have been able to hear him hadn’t she been so near, rubbing his arms repeatedly in a vertical motion.

“See what, Steve? What are you talking about?” Her hand grazed his chest for only one second, but she noticed the hairs in that area raising when he shivered due to the touch. “How can you be this warm still?”

In comparison to her hand, his skin felt like a scalding flame. Paying closer attention to it now, she saw how blushed it looked. The muscles tight, a sheen of sweat starting to blend in with the particles of what was left behind from the frosty cold water.

“I’m…” Natasha heard him mutter as his blue eyes drifted from her face and became empty and unfocused, as if he couldn’t see her anymore or chose not to acknowledge her presence.

Her focus was drawn to his waist line, a peculiar movement calling her eye. The length of his cock pulsated as it expanded, the balls contracting whilst beads of weeping fluid oozed out of the tip and slid across the smooth skin that enveloped the head.

She swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth as she examined his situation. It looked like it hurt. He was in pain.

“Hot… Too hot. I need…” Steve decided to remove the towel from his body in a rush, throwing it as far away from him as he could muster the strength to.

Trembling red lips whined when he tried to create some space between himself and his ginger friend, her body providing too much heat and making it unbearable for him to remain by her side.

“Please, Nat. Let me just…” Her nails had planted themselves in his shoulders, digging strongly to stop his fleeing. “I really need…”

“I know what you need, Steve. Calm down.” She knelt in front of his sitting figure, holding him upright with two hands due to his jelly like posture. “Look at me.” Her voice turned assertive in a way he hadn’t heard up to that point.

He fixated his attention back to the russian spy. Her touch was firm when she balanced herself on her knees, hands spread out on each of his naked thighs.

“No, please, I don’t feel so good.” She silenced his protests, shaking her head no to his attempts at getting up.

“Bruce explained what’s happening, remember? You need a compatible match to help you through your rut, Steve.” The blonde gasped at her words, dick twitching in the air.

“An omega.” He murmured more to himself then to her, head bobbing side to side from the exhaustion settling over him because of what felt like a pointless interaction.

The mere idea of having an omega to tend to his needs causing his hips to move on their own accord, trusting forwards and brushing the inside of her arm with his erect member. A grunt came from deep within him, a distinct pressure building in his chest.

“I need to find an omega.” He chanted.

“What you need is to cum, sweetheart.” Natasha’s expression was one of confidence when she held his cock securely using both hands.

The cold feeling of her palms against the vulnerably delicate piece of flesh send his instincts into a riot, a vibration starting inside of him.

“No.” He whispered in between puffs and huffs, inaudible in such small volume.

“And I can help you with that.” She continued, mistaking the sounds he was forming by ones of ecstasy. “There’s nothing an omega can give you that I can’t, Steve. Every since we met there was this connection between the two of us. You’ve made me open up in ways I never thought I would, because we understand each other.”

Steve stared down at her, motionless as she began to move her hands across his shaft. An odd admiration on her eyes as she focused at the task in front of her, the member pointing to the ceiling as a rumble left the alpha’s gritted teeth, his angelic colored irises darkening in a sinister fashion.

“And I know you feel the same.” Without thinking twice, Natasha went in open mouthed in the cock’s direction, moving with purpose.

But before her lips could graze the leaking tip, Steve’s hands were in the back of her head, fingers intertwining with the fiery locks and pulling drastically.

“No!” He but roared, gaining an unexpected strength.

Getting up from the bed in a brutal maneuver, the grab in Natasha’s hair intensified as he brought her up with him.

“What the hell are you doing?” She demanded, forcing him out of her with difficulty.

“Don’t ever do that again.” His voice was loud and clear now, imposing even.

His chest was puffed out and lips sneering, showing a bit of teeth. A glimpse of a fang appearing in the raze of the feral atmosphere, but disappearing seconds after.

“What’s wrong?” Her frown softened when she realized his state, reaching in to touch his face but being stopped dead in her tracks by the growling sound he emitted.

“ _You_. You smell wrong.” Each of his words were perfectly enunciated, leaving no room for Natasha to be misled.

Scanning his appearance now, she realized how weak he actually looked. Sickly, in fact. Going slowly mad from the rut fever melting his rational mind.

And even though it would hurt for her to see him with anyone else besides her, especially now that she so abruptly confessed her feelings for him; it would hurt even more to see him suffering and eventually dying from this condition.

So she knew that from that moment on, it was her task to save him, even if it meant going to the ends of earth to find a fucking omega for him to spend his rut with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still not sure if I want Bucky to get involved with the reader or not, either in a romantic level or just a physical one. Because, clearly, Natasha is going to be a part of the reader's relationship with Steve. Just don't know if I want Bucky to be as well. Let me know what you guys think, please! (Taking to consideration that neither Steve or Bucky are going to be dark on this one)
> 
> xoxo breaker


	3. Miscommunication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the reader is finally introduced in this chapter, and since she is foreign and I’m Brazilian, she’ll be from Brazil as well, as is easier for me to include a language that I already know (Portuguese) and also cultural curiosities. But our similarities stop there, I’m not trying to make the reader into me, that’d totally defeat the point of writing a reader insert story.

“This not a good idea.” Bucky spoke, for what it seemed to be the hundredth time.

“So you’ve said, over and over again.  I didn’t ask you to come, you know? ” Natasha sighed,  focused on steadfastly driving the plane, her hands firmly planted on each side of the control wheel.  “He’s in pain,  Barnes. And if Bruce’s right about his diagnosis, it’s only going to get worse.”

“I’m the last person in  the world who wants to see Steve suffering.  He’s my best friend, Romanoff.”  The Soldier’s shoulders were tense as he looked straight out of the aircraft's window, seeing the big building in the approaching horizon. “But we have to think about what he would want for a second. I mean, he fights to get these kinds of places shut down.”

“Well, Captain America’s moral code is the least of my worries right now.”  The redhead’s voice came out in a harsh bark, jaw clenched as she smoothly landed the machine. Once the engines stopped and they took off their  seat-belts, she looked over at Bucky, who’s face was series and unreadable. Before he could get up, she stopped him. “Look, I despise this too. But we’ve looked everywhere, Barnes. This is  the only way and I… And we have to save him.”

Bucky shook his head, eyebrows knotted in a frown, but eventually opened his expression to her, knowing she was right.

“When he finds out that we came here…”  He murmured, letting out a long breath and getting up from  his seat, Natasha hot on his tail as they left the plane.

“He’s not going to find out.” She said, voice low but never faltering. He stopped dead in his track, noticing the obvious threat in the Russian Agent’s voice. She kept walking as if nothing happened, never looking back, her stride straight and calm. “Right?”

He looked up at the imposing structure of the building ahead of them, the entire place looked dark and mono-toned, as if it had come out of a horror picture. It was a skyscraper, tall with many floors and windows. Tons and tons of windows, all square and s ealed with fat metal bars. A shiver went up his spine when he thought of what was being kept inside of that prison, and Bucky wondered if Steve not knowing about any of this wasn’t for the best after all.

“Right.”  He let out, following her to the entry with reluctant feelings.

They stopped at a massive closed gate, noting the security cameras surrounding the whole area. Natasha approached  the scanning mechanism at the superior right corner of the iron door, letting it scan her retina. After a couple of seconds, a loud buzzing ringed through their ears and the gate opened slowly.

Surprisingly, the place looked extremely luxurious, thou clean and minimalist. There was a grand open space, completely grassed and filled  with flowers, like a secret private garden. There were a couple of trees with comfortable-looking swings on them, providing a welcoming shadow to cool off in summer days. But at the sides of the garden, they could also see two tall stone towers, where armed man monitored  Natasha and Bucky’s every move.

Stunned at the juxtaposition of the whole thing, they kept walking towards a fancier looking door than the ones before, this one made of a glass-like material that led to a reception area, where they could see a blonde woman  typing away in her computer. Her posture was straight and her physique was lean. Her hair was pulled back in a slick bun, not a single strand out of place, making her forehead look bigger than probably was in reality.

There were a few leather sofas  on the lounge, but not one single person in the waiting room but the receptionist,  and with the level of security and organization of the place, both agents were willing to bet that whoever came there, didn’t have to wait around for long.

“Merhaba, size nasıl yardımcı olabilirim?” The receptionist spoke once they approached her, not ever looking up from the keyboard she typed on, her clear polished nails nothing but a blur as her fingers moved at top speed.

“H u m… ” Natasha turned to look at Bucky for a second, checking to see if he knew Turkish, because that was, unfortunately, one of the few languages that she was not fluent on. But the brunet simply shrugged, looking at her with an impassive  expression taking over his features . “Hi!” She tried, and the second that that simple English word left her lips, the blonde woman behind the desk quit typing, her hands stopping mid-air as she  finally looked up at them, a spooked lo ok in her face, her skin tone getting even paler than before, almost as if she had just seen a ghost. “We’re here to speak with Mr. Bürsin, actually.”  Natasha continued, sharing an uncertain look with Bucky due to the woman’s  reaction .

“You are  Natasha Romanoff ? Mr. Bürsin had already let me know you were coming, but I was told that you’re Russian and… Alone.”  She had a tick accent a strict-looking face, even though her scared expression, her royal-blue blazer just a little too tight for her chesty frame.

“Well, there was a minor change of plans.” Romanoff’s voice and posture shifted, mimicking the blond’s, an old manipulation tactic that always seemed to work on Alpha females, like this one, her pheromones strongly wafting out, overpowering her overly sweet perfume and making Bucky want to growl, but instead, he simply rolled his eyes,  not at all caring about the dissatisfaction that his presence caused . “I’m sure he won’t mind, thou.”

“ I’m sure he will.” With a frown she picked up the phone on her desk, dialling only one number and then proceeding to have a long conservation in Turkish, before finally hanging up. “Mr. Bürsin will see  you now.”  She gave off a tight sm ile , knuckles turning white while she still held on to the phone, and before they could move, she spoke again. “But only Miss Romanoff, not the Alpha.”

“ What?” Natasha and Bucky said at the same time.

“Why?” The redhead crossed her arms under her breasts, trying really hard not to get visually annoyed.

“Ma'am, we have protocols in place, he cannot come in.”  The woman’s tone was polite, but still condescending.

“ Don’t ‘ma’am’ me. Do I look like a ma’am to you?” Her eyebrows shot up,  completely giving up on the previous plan  by now. “I’m probably younger than you.”

When the receptionist expression didn’t change, Bucky touched the Russian woman in the arm, getting her attention.

“Romanoff, it’s fine.”

“No, you-”

“This is more important than any of that, remember why we’re here.” His voice was but a whisper, so that only she could hear. “Besides, I pity the fool that tries to mess with you. You can handle yourself, with or without me.” She smiled at that, looking at him for a while before nodding.

“Alright, let’s go.” Natasha said, giving the blonde a pointed look as she got up from her seat and away from her desk, starting to walk towards one of the many corridors of the building.

“Follow me, please.” Her accent hanged heavy, her hips swinging while she strode atop of her hills.

In the hall, Natasha saw many doors, all closed and guarded  b y strong, armed man. There was an ample opening at the end of the hall, where the receptionist stopped, indicating  for her to continue with a nod of the head.

When she walked in, noting as the woman closed the door behind her, she almost blacked out from the sheer smell of the room. The whole place looked sterile, but still reeked of Omega pheromones. Even for Natasha, a Beta, it was dizzying. Now she understood why it was so imperative that Bucky was not allowed to come inside.

The room was packed full of chairs, placed in a big circle that led to a stage. There were only man sitting in those chairs, all extremely well dressed. Some old, some young, but all clearly rich. Not one of them gave  her a second glance, all to focused on what  was about to happen on that stage. There was a narrow hallway in the center, in between all of the chairs. And right next to the stage, in  a front-row seat, she saw the back of  his head, and noticed the empty seat next to his.

Making a beeline for it, she sat down, yearning desperately for a take of fresh air right about now that she was so close to the stage, where the Omega smell was the strongest, being slowly mixed with all of those Alpha’s scents.

“Do me a favor and warn me next time you bring a friend, will you?” Emir Bürsin’s voice was  low and raspy, the light golden hair in his head tinning out and turning grey with age. But still, he was a very handsome man. Strong and muscular, but not bulky, with long, big arms straining inside of this tailored suit jacket.

“There will be no next time.”  Natasha was quick to answer, not at all impressed by his imposing build. He gave her one fast look, a crooked smile plastered on his face as he sat down in his front-row chair like a king, legs crossed in a nonchalant display.

“Oh, I bet. Once you try one of my girls, you’ll never want for seconds.” His smile became even bigger when Natasha couldn’t control the disgusted look in her eyes. “But you’re not shopping for yourself today, are you,  Widow?”

She didn’t appreciate the use of the nickname, turning to stare at the stage as the lights of  the room stared dimming and a cold-toned spotlight shone brightly at the center of the stage.

“No, definitely not.” He laughed to himself as she continued to ignore his remarks, frowning a bit when slow background music started to play. “You know, in this business people talk. And I happened to hear such an interesting tale.”

“I’m dying to hear it.” She murmured, the sarcasm strongly embedded in her features by then.

“I heard- oh, thank you.” He was cut off as different Beta woman, clearly assistants of the place, began to give out number plates to each and every man sitting in the room, making a point not  to give one to Natasha. She frowned  again at that, getting more and more confused by the minute. As they continued to work the room, he  proceeded . “I heard that one of your brand-new, shiny superhero friends got himself into a pretty sticky situation, if you know what I mean. Apparently — and again, this all word-of-mouth —, he succumbed into such a bad rut, that he may actually die if he doesn’t get his hands on an Omega, can you imagine  that ? Dying from horniness?”

His scoff was loud on Natasha’s ears, and she never had to restrain herself from punching someone so bad.

“And after years without speaking, completely out of the blue, you call me up to ask for a favor.”  A man appeared on stage and, wearing a suit and tie, he stood behind a podium, turning on the microphone in front of him and shuffling through cards.  “And that favor just so happens to be exactly what our favorite Captain needs to survive, isn’t that such a funny coincidence? Don’t you just love when the universe plays this crazy pranks on us? I mean, what are the odds of these two situations not being connected?”

By the time he was done, the man on stage had started to talk in Turkish, and the audience cheered on to whatever he was saying.

“What do you want to keep your mouth shut about this, Emir? More money?”  Natasha asked, mouth forming a little circle when an entirely naked woman entered the stage, s topping in the middle of the stoplight. Her hands were mechanically stuck to her sides, her limbs clearly trembling as she just stood there, completely exposed for those man’s eyes.

“Money? Fuck money, I got enough of that. I want security.”  Natasha wasn’t fully processing the conversation at that point, looking over at Emir who had picked up his number plate and put it up, waiting for it to get acknowledged by the man behind the podium before putting it down. 

“What do you mean?”  Her lips were moving, she knew she was forming words, but a big part of her brain wasn’t truly there.

Her eyes scanned throughout the room, seeing as other men were also putting their plates  up, and that’s finally when it hit her. Her blood ran cold when she realized what was happening, and her vision got stuck on that poor girl standing there, her body shaven from eyebrows down, beginning to follow the instructions of the spokesman, turning around to show the audience her form from behind, and them proceeding to slightly open her legs to show the inside of…

Natasha closed her eyes, not wanting to see more, turning so that Emir couldn’t see her face. She felt like throwing up, a little lightheaded as well. So this was what he did here, he ran auctions, Omega auctions.

“I want the security of knowing that no matter what happens, neither you or anyone of your super assholes are going to come busting through here and ruin my business, that’s what I want.”  She tried swallowing down the knot that had formed in her throat, putting on her best poker face to look back at him, only to find the man smiling over winning the bidding. He turned to her, putting the plate down on his lap as the girl left the stage and another waked in right after. “ Do we have an underst anding ?”

“We do.”  The steadiness of her voice s h ocked even Natasha herself, but Emir didn’t seem to notice a thing, looking comfortable and relaxed, not taken aback one bit by the situation  that was taken place.

“Lovely.”  He quickly got up, leaving the number plate on top of his seat, and closed his jacket, exaggerating the slimness of his waist. “So, now that we got that out of the way, do you  want to come and meet the present that I hand-wrapped for Mr. Rogers myself?”

Natasha got up as well, trying to ignore the raging feeling running through her body, forcing herself to think of Steve, to think back to the reason she was there, and nod in response to his question, instead of doing what she really would like to, which would be betting him into a pulp.

“I just hope I got the right size.”  He chirped as they star ted walking out of the auction room, out into the corridor and entering one of the many doors, where a small bedroom was home to a frightened-looking young woman.

*

Everything hurt.

His whole body ached, literally. He could literally feel the muscles underneath his skin contracting and expanding, and the pain was all so bad. He could feel his lungs enlarging as he breathed air in and shrinking as  he exhaled it out, and the burn was almost maddening.

This wasn’t what a normal rut was supposed to feel like, of that Steve was sure. No other person should ever have to feel the way he was feeling, ever.

This was hell.

His own bedroom ha d become hell.

His back was pressed to the bed, the sheets were so  soaked with sweat that he felt like he could drown. He tried showering, but that had been a bad idea altogether.

He hated the hellfire that his skin had become, that he had passed the point of feverish a long time ago and now whenever the cold water hit his flesh, vapor could be seen wafting through the air.

But that wasn’t even the worst part, it was the smell. The simple smell of soap, from that ‘vintage’ brand that tries to recreate the classic scents from older eras, the one that he used to love. Now, that smell made him want to trow up.

Now, m ost smells around his house  hit him differently, making his stomach turn and nausea overtake him. He definitely hasn’t eaten in a while, he could see it too, in the quick passing glances he gives to the mirror, how skinnier he has gotten.

The bed is the only place where he doesn’t feel like putting his guts out. Because it smells of him. Only him, and nothing else. No one else. Isn’t that sad? That his body so desperately earns for another, but since it can’t have it, it prefers to slowly shut down and die alone.

All of a sudden, the doorbell rang, and Steve berried his face in his pillow, a growling noise involuntarily coming from his chest at the idea of having to come to the door. That was the worst part of his apartment. The one that smelled the least like him and more like others, especially like Alphas. Oh, god, he hates Alphas. And yes, that includes himself.

“Steve?” He could hear a female voice from outside the door, calling out to him, and the Alpha inside got excited for a second, before the scent of Beta hit his nose, making his face contour into a grimace. “It’s Natasha, can I come in?”

He could hear keys jiggling before he could even answer. Hadn’t he made her give him the keys to his apartment last time?

“No!” He screamed at her, his voice hoarse due to the lack of use.

He wanted to die, in private, was that so hard to understand?

“Well, too bad.”  He could hear when she closed the door behind her and began walking towards his room.

“Don’t come in.” He barked as her shadow stopped outside of his door, w hich was almost completely closed, if not by a tiny slit.

“What? Why?”

Because your mere presence makes me want to break every single square inch of this bedroom while I trow up on top of the debris. That’s what he wanted to say, but instead- “I’m naked.”

“I’ve seen you naked already.” She sighed from behind the barrier that separated her from entering his room, invading his space. And he really didn’t want to be rude to her, not again, but Natasha could be really push y , and it’s not like he could control most of the words that come out of his mouth in the state’s his in.

“And I didn’t like it then, nor will I like it now.” He tried to stop the relief that rushed through him when he heard her murmur a small ‘ok’. “What do you want, Nat?”

“Look, we don’t have much time now, and Banner says the only thing that’s keeping you alive after all these days suffering through what your body’s been suffering is also the thing that made you sick in the first place: the serum. He says that the only  thing that you’ll get better and survive this, is seeing your rut out with an Omega.”

At the mere mention of the word, his dick twitched, a wave of pleasure-laced pain cutting through his lower body, and Steve had to contain a moan, embarrassment warming his cheeks even more than they already were.

“I already heard all that before, Nat. I know my situation, but it’s too late now.” He gritted his teeth against each other, getting pretty good at coasting through the pain by then. “And I’m fine with that.”

“But it doesn’t have to be like that.” Maybe she could hear his eyes rolling,  because before he tried to ask her to leave once more she spoke again. “Listen, Steve, I know you didn’t want anyone  to  know about what  is happening to you, and I wanted to respect that, but I… But none of us could just sit by and watch you die.”

Her mouth was suddenly dry, her vocal cords scraping against each other ruggedly, creating an unpleasant sound and making it clear that she was nervous, but Steve let her continue, his heart beating faster with her every word.

“So Tony put out an ad, letting people know that Captain America was in need of help, and if any Omega out there was willing they could come to the facility and get tested to see if they were compatible with you. A lot of women showed up — shocker —,”  She let out a humorless laugh, listening to nothing but silence in return,  “but most of them weren’t even Omegas, and the ones that were weren’t compatible with you. But finally, yesterday, this foreign girl showed up, she doesn’t know much English, but she says that you saved her in  Sokovia and that she’d like to save you now. So, if you still want me to go and leave you be, I will, but if you’re done with this whole self-loathing and self-harm thing, I could invite her in, and you two could have tons of savage sex and also not die.”

A long time went by after that, a long period of silence, where only Steve’s laboured breathing could be heard. He didn’t say anything, but that wasn’t intentional. He was stunned, actually, still trying to digest everything that Natasha had said. Considering every word, processing it slower than he usually would in his natural state.

“Steve?” The redhead’s voice ringed, waking him up from his trance. “Did you even hear what I said?”

“She’s outside?!” Was the first thing that he could think of saying, voice strained, sounding a little scared, even.

“Yeah, me and Bruce brought her over. Like I said, she knows very little English but she was clear on the fact that she wanted to help you.”

“And we’re compatible?”

“Yes!”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh, my God. Just put some clothes on and get out here!”  She demanded, bossy as always, but his Alpha wouldn’t take that, not right now. A loud growl emerged from him, and Steve had to physically restrain himself from breaking something.

Still, he took a deep breath, his head hurt so bad that he wasn’t sure he was capable of getting up. But he pushed through, having to hold his head with both hands to try and make the room stop spinning. Very slowly he got out  of bed, immediately missing the familiarity that it provided him.

He looked over at his closet, seeing all of his clothes laid out neatly, and only the thought of having any of that fabric on top of his skin was painful enough to make him give up on that premise entirely and put on his robe instead.  Th e feel of it was still very much wrong, but knowing that he would be able to take it off much quicker than any other piece of clothing was just a little  more soothing.

If there was one thing you needed to understand about Steve Rogers, is that he was a planner. He not only loved to plan, he was good at it too. He’d plan his missions, his day s , his meals, everything meticulously. That was when he was at he’s most comfortable, making up a plan and following it through. He wasn’t completely against making things up as he went, but saying that it didn’t make him anxious would be a lie.

He always preferred to know how things were going to play out, and this wasn’t any different. He had already created a route for this whole rut sickness deal: he was slowing going to die alone inside of his room, leave his shield to Sam and his comic book collection to Bucky, maybe his record player and records would go to Tony, and he would leave that pretty brooch he got from his mom to Natasha. That was it. It was a date.

But all of that changed now and he had to reroute his way around this. And that’s precisely what he was doing as he approached the door, already having wrapped himself in his robe.

He was going to go out there, tell this poor girl that she didn’t owe him anything, that he was happy to know that he had saved her life  in Sokovia, and that she should go out into the world and find love, not wait around like had. Then he would apologize for his friends bringing her here, tell them all to leave him alone for good, and he’d even keep his posture throughout the whole ordeal.

That was the new plan, and he was happy with it. Yeah, this was good. This could work.

“Finally.” Steve heard Natasha say when he left his bedroom, entering the living room, a weird fuzzy feeling catching a hold of him for some reason. “So, can I tell Banner to let her in?”

He simply nodded, not sure what to do with a different kind of sensation starting in his lower abdomen. It wasn’t necessarily good, but it wasn’t bad either, w hich was surprising, because all he could feel of lately was bad. An uneasy, unplaceable feeling forming. And it was something completely new. Was it… Excitement?

Natasha opened the entry door of his apartment again, getting out but leaving it open. He could hear her and Bruce talking softly in the hallway, but he didn’t care to try to understand what they were saying, he didn’t care about anything, not anymore.

Because even before they walked back in, with a young woman following close behind them, with her hair pulled back and a makeup clean face, eyes glued to  the ground and hands closed together in front of her body, he had already smelled her. He had already taken a big whiff of that intoxicating scent, goosebumps staring at the back of his neck, travelling all the way to his  cock and making it leak precum. He had already set his eyes on that Omega.

And by then, he knew.

Fuck the plan.

**Author's Note:**

> The only reason why I'm finally writing this story to which I've had the prompt for forever now it's utter boredom. That's right, I have the holidays boredom sickness. Netflix won't be enough.
> 
> Hope you guys embark with me for this ride.
> 
> xoxo, breaker


End file.
